


And We Were Two Made One

by PrincessDianaArtemis



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Children, F/M, Flashbacks, Post-The Jungle Movie, Shortaki Week 2020, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessDianaArtemis/pseuds/PrincessDianaArtemis
Summary: A little late, but my entry for Shortaki Week 2020!In honor of my favorite couple on their weekLike clockwork, the two of them found their way circling back to each other - five minutes and twenty-four seconds after separating - and Phoebe was able to shoot a smug grin up at Gerald.Helga and Arnold squared up against each other, neither wanting to apologize but admitting that they needed each other to complete Simmons’ assignment. When the two of them had made up, defensive postures melting away into soft smiles that then further morphed into protective scoffs and placating grins, Phoebe pulled Gerald away.
Relationships: Gerald Johanssen & Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki & Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki/Arnold Shortman, Phoebe Heyerdahl & Arnold Shortman, Phoebe Heyerdahl & Helga Pataki, Phoebe Heyerdahl/Gerald Johanssen
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	1. Celestial Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> I missed the first two days but I'll add those to the end:  
> Here's day three - Satellite.
> 
> POV Phoebe

It was an orbit. Truly.

Phoebe was not one to hyperbolize or make up delusions of grandeur, she wasn’t made for that. She left that to someone else. Facts and figures made sense to her, and she was used to being the stabilizing factor to a friend with more worries than most their age and making sure that everything went the way it should. 

But just because she’d been wearing glasses her entire life did  _ not  _ mean she was  _ blind _ . And facts were facts - there was science to her observations that she, nor anyone else, could deny.

An orbit.

When the eyes of one dropped their gaze, the other lifted it. They found each other regardless of location, of whether one was stalking the other one - or merely just a coincidence. Circling around each other, and once it looked predatory but now it was something that gave and took. And she theorized that, even if you were to pull them away, they’d find each other again - like magnets drawn to one another. 

And it didn’t just run one way. Though in one direction it was easier to see - 

“Helga, you’re staring again,” Phoebe said, nudging the pink-clad girl to catch her attention. “He’s gonna look over here and then you’re gonna have to explain what’s happening?” 

There was a little furrow in her brow when Helga turned her blue gaze on Phoebe. At first, it looked angry, then furrowed deeper into confusion, until it relaxed into resignation with a sigh that deflated the whole of her body and deflated her towering stature. 

“Thanks, Pheebs,” Helga said, giving one final flicker of a look in the distance before turning to the smaller girl. “How was your trip to Kentucky?”

Phoebe shot her best friend a look, studious and probing, “You’re changing the subject. But - it was fine, my grandmother was glad to see us. It’s been a while.”

Helga gave her a little smile, “That’s great.”

And when the gaze and smile dropped down towards the little pink book in her hands, pink bow drooping, Phoebe glanced back over to the other end of the room. She was unsurprised with what she saw. 

-in the other direction, it was just as apparent. 

Phoebe met the focused green eyes of the young man on the other end of the cafeteria. He had been watching like an eagle, those sharp eyes following every bob of the pink crowned gold, until they slid just less than an inch away and met Phoebe’s curious expression.

Even from the distance, she could see how his fair face pinkened under her scrutiny, though his embarrassment didn’t hold him back from turning his attention back to Helga.

Next to Arnold, Gerald turned his attention over to her.

_ What is going on _ ? He mouthed to her, pointing between Arnold at his side and Helga at hers.

Phoebe’s lips curled up into a small smile, but to him, she only shrugged and mouthed back,  _ Later _ .

Experimentation would be useful, though not necessarily needed. Phoebe had been taking notes since she was old enough to write - Helga had her poetry, but she had observations. 

Arnold was a harder datum to track because he was more volatile than Helga - always shifting in his emotions and his desires. 

“Phoebe, our friends are not lab rats, we can’t  _ do _ this,” said Gerald as he and Phoebe followed the friends in question on their  _ unfortunate  _ forced outing. 

The girl barely acknowledged him as she scribbled furiously in her notebook, “Look, Mr. Simmons is forcing them to spend time together as a punishment for causing a mess in class - it’s the perfect social experiment.”

Gerald sighed, “Yeah, but  _ why _ are we doing this, Pheebs? We already know they don’t get along and why they don’t. This is just a waste of an afternoon - we should go get ice cream.”

In the distance, Arnold had started an argument about  _ ‘space’ _ and saying that she won’t ‘ _ have to worry about me because I’m going my own way _ ’ and ‘ _ fine by me, Football Head, I don’t need to learn anything about  _ **_you_ ** .’ 

“See what I mean.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, “I give them seven minutes before they crash into each other and have to find a reason to apologize.”

Like clockwork, the two of them found their way circling back to each other - five minutes and twenty-four seconds after separating - and Phoebe was able to shoot a smug grin up at Gerald.

Helga and Arnold squared up against each other, neither wanting to apologize but admitting that they needed each other to complete Simmons’ assignment. When the two of them had made up, defensive postures melting away into soft smiles that then further morphed into protective scoffs and placating grins, Phoebe pulled Gerald away.

“I don’t get it,” Gerald said, scratching at his head. “How? Just  _ how _ do they always find a way to make up when they’re horrible to each other? And I’ll admit, I put as much of the blame on my boy as I do Pataki.”

“They’re magnetic,” answered Phoebe, “You don’t get it because you don’t feel it. Because Arnold’s never been anything more than - than the Earth and Helga’s a moon being pulled into his orbit. He makes the rules and she follows.”

Gerald frowned, “Are we talking about the same two kids? Because Helga would never do what Arnold says.”

Phoebe smiled, small and weighed down by years of secrecy, “Haven’t you ever wondered why Arnold worries so much about his bully? So much farther than what he should? Or why Helga will smack everyone in the class but has never put a hand on Arnold?”

Mouth opened to comment, then closed in confusion as realization set in, “Orbit?”

“Orbit.”


	2. Corazon de Oro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something missing around her neck, the weight gone and it feels like losing a limb.
> 
> Day Four Prompt: Locket

It was only a metaphorical heart and she knew that it was stupid to miss the weight against her chest when she had an almost identical weight around her hand, but - it was a difficult thing to explain to her psyche.

Missing that cold heart against her own heavy heart usually meant that she was up to shenanigans leading to getting it back into her hands before people found out about her secrets. No more monologuing to the face of her beloved in the quiet corners of the city, behind walls or dumpsters or trees and instead turning her monologuing towards the newest pink books in her series of journals. 

Still. It had grown to be a part of her and she missed it terribly.

Arnold was watching his…friend with the intensity of a San Lorenzo summer, following the track of Helga’s hand as it distractedly reached up for the top of her dress, clenching around the fabric there as if expecting to find something and then not finding it. Her eyes widened and he could almost see the panic setting in her body before it realized something and relaxed.

At her side, he saw Phoebe give her a soft look, not pitying exactly but sympathetic, as if she knew more than she let on - and it irritated him slightly to know that someone knew his - _friend_ better than him.

“Helga,” he said, upset when the sound of his voice brought her back with a startled jump. “Are you alright? You look a little - did you lose something?”

Her breath hitched for a moment, face shifting into the wide-eyed trapped look he’d grown accustomed to seeing when she was caught doing something against her nature. Then she took a good luck at him and, as if remembering the status of their relationship, she eased back with a wobbly smirk.

“Aw, Football Head,” she said, the tease bringing more of her back to the surface. “Are you worried about me? I’m fine you know just - just getting used to some things.”

Arnold fought against two instincts - one to roll his eyes at the taunt and the other to keep pressing - but he decided to give her a warm smile. “I’ll always worry about you, Helga. But you know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, right?”

And all of the worry melted away as he saw the rosiness spreading across the bridge of her nose, his stomach giving a little swoop as she turned her blushing face away.

“Quit your flirting, Football Head and - don’t you have work to do?”

With a smile that had moved from warm to dazed, Arnold hummed an agreement and turned back to his work, barely making out the _‘mmm mmm_ **_mmm_** _, you’re too far gone on her''_ from Gerald.

It dawned on him that night at dinner. As Stella swooped down next to him and placed the bowl of mashed potatoes, smacking Oscar’s hand away before pressing a kiss to the crown of Arnold’s head, realization sparked with the press of his mother’s love.

“A heart of gold,” he said under his breath and catching the attention of the woman who was barely out of earshot.

Stella frowned, “Honey, are you - is it - what was that about a heart of gold?”

Arnold blushed and looked down at the plate in front of him, preferable over the worried look in his mother’s green eyes, “It’s just - I realized we lost something important in San Lorenzo and I didn’t really notice because it wasn’t mine to notice. And now - well, now I’m noticing and I feel _bad_.”

She looked like she wanted to squeeze something with him, but the announcement from Miles that food was served interrupted her train of thought and Arnold hoped she’d forget about it altogether.

No such luck.

Stella herded him onto the couch after dinner and pinned him with a look that invited no argument from him, so he took a seat and waited for her to say her piece.

When she settled next to him, she sighed and said, “Arnold, I need you to understand that losing the Corazon was not your fault, okay? You chose to live and that’s more important to us - even to the Green-Eyes - than the Corazon.”

“Oh,” said Arnold, frowning. “No, Mom, that's not…I mean, yeah it was really sad that we lost the Corazon but I was thinking about a different golden heart. I think that Helga’s locket was ruined after being used to set off the medicine. And I think that she’s - missing it.”

She blinked a few times, processing what he had said, then a wobbly smile spread on her face and her lips parted with a coo, “Oh, my sweet boy. I should’ve known you were talking about your girlfriend.”

“Mom, she’s not my - _that_. We’re just, y’know, friends now,” Arnold said, blush highlighting his freckles. “I just feel guilty. That locket meant a lot to her.”

Stella nodded, a sly tilt of her lips as she sat there thinking, then her eyes lit up, “I think I have something to help you.”

Arnold felt awkward.

No.

He felt like he was burning from the inside out with embarrassment, then chilled by the cold sweat worry that he’d be laughed out of Hillwood. He hadn’t been sure whether this was something he should’ve been dressed up for, or should he have brought flowers, or maybe warned Helga that he was coming - 

“Um, Arnold, you doing okay?” asked Helga, eyes scanning the area, “Something wrong? Any of those meatheads after you? Or -” something seemed to add-up as she stopped, taking in his nervous demeanor and her mouth opened in a little ‘o’, “Oh. I get it. You’re gonna let me down. That’s why you’re so nervous.”

Arnold spluttered, “What?”

Helga pulled her arms tight across her chest, scowl fighting to crawl onto her face but fighting with the wobbiliness of her lip, “I’m a big girl, Arnold. Rejection isn't something stranger to me. C’mon Football Head, lay it on me.”

“No,” said Arnold. “That’s not what - why would you think - I-”

“Just - get it over with, Arnold.”

“I have a present for you,” he blurted out, not able to handle the look on Helga’s face and he shoved the small, square box into her hands. 

Helga’s eyes dropped to the little white box, fingers playing with the soft pink ribbon on top, and then she glanced back up to him, confused, “You - you got me a present?”

Face heating up again, Arnold gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I realized what you’ve been looking for - what’s missing and I figured that you might want a replacement.” 

Realization softened Helga’s features and she pulled on the ribbon to open the box. A little gasp parted her lips as she looked inside, and she looked up at him with an almost dumbstruck expression.

“This is -”

“My mom gave it to me,” Arnold said, still blushing. “She said it was the least we could do for everything you’ve done for us and - well, something happened to yours. 

Helga pulled out the thin chain that held the dainty gold locket and brought it up to her line of vision, “Why? You didn’t need to do that.”

“You lost that helping me find my parents. The least I could do is make sure that you still had something to count on. I - there’s not a picture in it though - I figured that you’d want to do that yourself.”

Helga smiled, a sweet curve that made her seem like a different person altogether and it pulled on Arnold’s stomach and almost distracted him from her next words.

“You’re a softie, Football Head…but thanks,” she said, pulling the chain around her neck and letting the heart-shaped locket rest on her chest. “I guess I don’t have to hide it all that much now, right?”

“R-right.”

She laughed, “Alright, enough of this softie mess, let’s go get some ice-cream.”

The weight was different on her chest. Not as clunky, not as heavy as the hand in hers, but delicate like the bond between them. It didn’t hold a picture of her beloved, nor an inscription, or even a lock of his hair, but it meant so much more.

There would be no monologuing to it; she didn’t need to anymore.

And now, the warmth of a golden heart against her beating one would be a beacon of hope for the future - and _that_ her psyche could live with. That is something she could live with.


	3. Wrapped Around Your Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Helga gets in a little trouble with her teachers for pushing Harold a little too hard...and someone else joins her in the punishment.

Harold had, once again, driven Helga over the edge. It wasn’t that the bigger boy was any meaner than she had allowed herself to be - but in his meanness, he was able to hit right where it hurt even though he never knew what it meant.

It wasn’t the first time that Helga was sent to the time-out corner during recess while all the other kids played so she could ‘think about her words and actions’, but it was the first time that she had company.

She kept looking up from her dirt-covered, white shoes and towards the sniffling boy sitting across the way. His bright green eyes were swimming with unshed tears as he looked towards the playing kids and every now and then he’d give a pitiful sniff.

“I’m sorry you got in trouble,” muttered Helga after steadying her own uneasy heart with a breath. “It’s all my fault.”

Arnold blinked back the tears and looked over at her, confusion pulling down his brow, “ ‘S’not your fault, Helga - Harold was - was being a  _ meanie _ . I couldn’t let him say all those things about you.”

Helga felt her cheeks getting hot, so she turned away, “You didn’t have to tell him anything. I could’ve handled him myself.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have to,” said Arnold, the teary-eyed expression shifting into something stronger, angry. “You don’t have to deal with him all by yourself, Helga. That’s not fair. He’s not nice to you and no one else stands up for you and - and - and it’s just not  _ fair _ .”

She shrugged, wishing that her heart would stop beating so happily at the sound of him defending her, “I’m mean too. Maybe I de-deserve it because I’m a mean person.”

He shook his head, his hair swinging from side-to-side, “Nuh-uh. You’re not mean. My grandpa says no one’s really that mean. Besides, you’re soft.”

“ ‘M not,” she pouted. “I hit Harold.”

“Because he hurt your feelings,” he said. “And - and you protect Phoebe from the big kids and - and you make sure that Curly doesn’t get pushed around by Rhonda - and - and you helped me that one time that I thought Grandpa forgot me.”

Helga shrugged, “Yeah, well, I - I just feel sorry for you guys, but don’t push me or else I could treat you the same way I do Harold.”

Arnold was quiet, eyes turning back down towards the crowd of kids. And Helga was able to catch her breath, processing the kind words of the only person that mattered. 

Yes. He was right. But they were  _ different _ . Phoebe was the only person worth protecting - the only person smart enough not to pick at their scabs or boogers - and Curly was just pitiful, he didn’t deserve the things that Rhonda did to him.

And, of course, Arnold was  _ Arnold _ who was nice to her since the first moment they’d met and had stood up for her against the biggest bully in their class who had just made fun of her about - about - well, it didn’t matter. He’d gotten in trouble defending her and she didn’t deserve his kindness.

“He’s wrong, you know,” said Arnold, bringing her attention back to the present, back to him. 

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick that she was sure to tuck that away for future reference, and then with a little shrug continued, “What Harold said isn’t true. You’re not.”

“N-not?”

“You’re not ugly, okay? Or mean, or any of the things that Harold said,” Arnold told her, meeting the wide-eyes looking at him. “I mean it. You’re  _ not _ .”

Helga felt tears rising to her eyes, throat closing up, “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re goody-goody nice boy, Arnold.”

“Nuh-uh, I mean it,” he said and stuck out his hand, pinky extended. “Pinky promise you that it’s true.”

It was Helga that sniffled this time, “Pinky promise.”

She twined her finger with his and looked away from the bright beam of sunshine from the boy’s face. 

“And you don’t ever have to worry. I’ll  _ always  _ be there when you need me,” he said, tightening the coil of his finger. “ _ Pinky promise. _ ”


	4. Line in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arnold might've pushed Helga just a bit too far and now has to deal with the consequences.

“I’ve had it.” Gerald said, throwing back the rest of his milkshake and then letting the glass thump onto the table in front of him. “I’ve gotta put an end to this.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, “I think you’re overreacting, Gerald. Just let him be.”

The young man narrowed his eyes at her before turning his gaze back towards his droopy-haired friend. Arnold had gotten into a fight with his…friend and now he sat at Slausen’s, away from the rest of his friends, nursing a tall glass of malt.

“C’mon, babe,” said Gerald, hands waving helplessly towards Arnold. “He’s a sad sight to see. We gotta do something, otherwise…otherwise he’s just gonna make  _ us  _ sad, too. Just look at that face.”

“He shouldn’t have pushed her, Gerald,” Phoebe answered. “Helga might…y’know, but she still has lines in the sand that he shouldn’t cross and - being very public is one of those things. I  _ know _ he’s more open and no one would really question him, but - she’s -”

Gerald gave a sigh, “I get it. She’s worked so hard to be Helga G. Pataki, but - even she’s gotta be feeling a little guilty about things.”

At that, Phoebe gave a little giggle, “Helga’s gone more than ten years without his attention. She’ll be fine.  _ Arnold _ on the other hand, well - ” she gestured towards him, “he’s the one that doesn’t do well without attention.”

Arnold - Arnold was  _ fine _ . He was just - just  _ peachy _ , if he did say so himself. He was just…enjoying life. Hanging out with his two  _ best  _ friends - Gerald and Phoebe - and wasn’t thinking about some  _ other  _ people.

Not. At.  _ All _ . 

But now, watching Hel- that  _ person _ \- giggling and joking around with Curly of all people, it made something twist in his stomach and make him sick. 

But he was fine.  _ Just fine. _

It wasn’t the way that Curly was almost normal while talking to Helga, the two of them speaking like old friends despite the fact that he had never seen them together. And, what was worse, was that no one was even batting an eyelash at the weirdness unfolding in front of them.

“Are you seeing this? Can you - what is - Gerald, please pinch me, I have to be imagining this,” said Arnold, almost pouting.

Gerald raised an eyebrow, barely acknowledging him, “Huh? What are you talking about, man? There’s nothing weird going on here.”

He sputtered and gestured madly ahead of him, “Are you not seeing this, man?”

“What?”

“That,” Arnold said, hand outstretched towards the two very cosy friends. “Curly and - and her _. _ Since when are they friends? Since when do they…talk like that?”

A little laugh from Gerald brought Arnold’s attention away from them, “Aw, man. Please don’t tell me you’re jealous? They’ve been friends since kindergarten, remember? She used to defend him from Rhonda.”

Arnold was quiet as he recalled that memory, then he scoffed, “Yeah, well. They don’t have to be so public about it.”

The laugh from his friend doubled him over, “Mmm mmm  _ mmm _ . Arnold, you need to talk to her and make this right.”

A frown, “I don’t have to do anything.”

Phoebe stood before a seated Arnold, arms crossed, and waited for the boy to unfold from his petulant, slumped posture.

“Are you done having a pity party, Arnold?” she asked. “Because it’s time to admit that you pushed too far and it’s time to make amends.”

Arnold looked at her, mouth agape, “Me? She’s the one who’s being irrational. Why can’t anyone know that we’re - friends? What is she so worried about?”

“You pushed her beyond her limits,” Phoebe said, eyes softening for a second before going flinty again. “She’s not comfortable because people don’t like thinking of her as a  _ feeling _ person - it’s easy for them to see her as mean ol’ Helga. Besides, how can you be angry at her when you can’t even say what she is yourself?”

Arnold stood outside of the school and waited for Helga to come out. When she did, his heart clenched as he saw her with Curly once again.

“Um, Helga, can we talk?” he asked, then focused on Curly and added, “ _ Alone _ ?”

Curly raised an eyebrow and glanced at Helga, who gave him a little nod.

“It’s alright, Thad, I’ll be okay. See you later?”

“Alright, pinky, see you later.”

Helga stood there, arms crossed, “Well?”

“Uhm, I’m,” Arnold rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, Helga. I didn’t realize why you didn’t want people to know about us being - being - ”

“Friends?” said Helga, with a wry smile. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, Football Head. It’s nice being your friend but I don’t need everyone all up in my business.”

Arnold shook his head, “No. I mean, yes, I get that you don’t want people in your business, but we’re not friends.”

Helga’s face dropped, her eyes widening until he stopped her with a frantic wave of his arms. 

“No, no no no no no,” he said. “Not, not that we aren’t friends, we are, of course we are but I figured we were,” his hand snaked to the back of his neck again, “that we were  _ more _ , and then you started hanging out with Curly and you were laughing and - and I just - ”

She put a hand up to his mouth, stopping him mid-rant, “Whoa there, Football Head. Breathe, please.”

When he started steadying, she continued, a blush spreading across her cheeks, “Me too. You’re - more than a friend to me, too. And yes, we still have to keep that a secret. I’m not ready for people to know yet, okay?”

“Okay,” said Arnold, shoulders relaxing. “Okay. I get it.”

Helga smiled, a genuine curve that twisted Arnold’s stomach which flopped when she started laughing. Her laugh kept flowing out of her until he frowned, and asked:

“What’s so funny?”

She clutched her stomach, “I can’t believe you were jealous of Curly.”

He pouted, “I was not.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “Whatever you said Football Head. C’mon Slausen’s on me.”

As he followed her away from the school, he continued calling after her, “I wasn’t.”


	5. It's A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhonda puts a little extra pressure to the Hillwood students for the upcoming dance...who knows what it'll lead to.

The April Fool’s Dance had become a Hillwood schools staple regardless of the affairs that went down in its initial year.

Every year, Eugene and Rhonda would organize the dance to be just as prank-filled, but, as Rhonda would put it, ‘Shortaki shenanigan proof’. The first year, the two of them glanced at each other and blushed, blaming each other for such a christening. Then every year after, it was just a matter of acceptance and keeping as far away from each other as they could during the course of the event.

This year, the year after their eventful and successful escapade to San Lorenzo, was gonna be a little different.

“So…who are you going to the dance with, girls?” Rhonda asked the crowd of the girls during recess. When they all glanced at her, blinking with confusion or wonder, she sighed, “We’re  _ sixth graders _ now. We need a date.  _ I _ , of course, will make sure to be asked by someone fantastically cool.”

The rest of the girls just shared a look, both worried and thoughtful because, for once, Rhonda was making sense.

Rhonda hmmed, “And so I ask again,  _ who _ are you going to the dance with?” 

And with a finality in her tone, Rhonda set off a wave of panic through the playground. A broken dam of crackling voiced boys coming up to eligible girls and asking them to the dance before they were taken away. Girls who would primp and preen hoping to be swept up and not be left in the metaphorical dust.

Some were easy pairings without much of an ask to the name - Gerald who with a nudge and a whisper into Phoebe’s ear had gotten a nod, or Harold who nervously sidled up to Patty that rolled her eyes and muttered a quiet ‘duh’.

Some were back and forths - Curly begging Rhonda to accept as she went from Lorenzo, to Peapod Kid, to anyone else that’d be willing to ask her before she accepted the pleads from the persistent suitor. 

And, of course, there was everyone’s favorite mystery. 

There was something making Arnold jumpy and it was starting to make Helga nervous, too. The two had met near the pier for their usual walk - away from the nosy prying eyes of their classmates. Phoebe and Gerald would be sure to dissuade any rumors of their whereabouts while the two enjoyed time together.

It was usually a relaxing moment, a time when their fingers could be allowed to twine together and their shoulders could bump in a friendlier way than when they were in the hallways of school. Sure, they were getting along a lot better in public - but this was a time where every wall could crumble and they could be their true selves. 

But today, there was a nervousness in Arnold’s posture, in the way his hands were wringing and refusing to even close the gap between the two of them. 

Alarms rang in Helga’s head and the snide voices that sounded too much like that of her father chimed in and said that this was it, that it had been fun while it lasted but that he no longer could pretend to like her - that it had just been a long-term thank you for saving his parents. 

“Arnold?” she asked, the cold hand of acceptance squeezing her throat. “I, um, couldn’t help but notice that you’re a little nervous.” 

The red that dashed across his face deepened, “I’ve been thinking - ”

_ Here it comes _ .

“Do you - do you think it’s too soon, or, I mean too much for us to - to go to the April Fool’s Dance together,” said Arnold, hand nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, we don’t have to go - or go together, I mean, we’ll probably go together anyway since Phoebe and -”

“Arnold,” Helga said, stopping him mid-rant. “Is that why you’ve been so nervous? Because of what Rhonda said?”

He gave her a wry grin and nodded. Then she laughed, straight from the belly, until she was bent over with the effort.

“Oh, Football Head, why didn’t you just  _ talk  _ to me?” she asked, between peals of laughter. “Besides, we’ve been ahead of the curve - we’ve already gone to dances as each other’s dates, heck, we’ve already kissed… _ multiple times _ . We don’t have to go together just because Rhondaloid wants us to act like grown-ups since we’re in ‘sixth-grade now’.”

Arnold looked pensive, a slow smile inching up his face, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“The real question is,” said Helga, straightening up now with a more serious glint in her blue eyes. “Do you  _ want  _ to go to the dance together?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “Do - do you?”

A laugh escaped, “Doi, Football Head - you still owe me from dumping me in the pool. Maybe this time we can tango for real. Who knows how it’ll end this time?”

Another blush graced the boy’s freckled face, “Then - it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my fanfiction.net era, I definitely wrote a piece of an alternate ending to the April Fool's tango and well, maybe I can explore it again...


End file.
